


you made a rebel of a careless man’s careful daughter

by hopedynevan



Category: Ant-Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, High School AU, also has some major daddy issues going on, because i'd die for scotthope, fake dating au, hope is in a Rebellious stage bc like that definitely happened in high school come on
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-09-11
Packaged: 2020-03-09 06:24:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18911365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopedynevan/pseuds/hopedynevan
Summary: Hope van Dyne needs a fake boyfriend, ideally one who will piss her father off as much as humanly possible. Scott Lang needs to pass physics to stay at Milton Academy. They come to an arrangement.“are you asking me to be your boyfriend, because don’t get me wrong you’re pretty and all, but we just talked for like the first time ever.”she hates him. she actually hates him. if he agrees, she doesn’t know how she’ll get through a fortnight without killing him then herself.“fake boyfriend. i’m asking you to be my fake boyfriend. there’s a difference.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> a fake dating au because there can never be enough scotthope fics !
> 
> i was inspired by skyparents’ scotthope fic ‘such a rollercoaster’ go read it for clear skin
> 
> also this is dedicated to preeya just bc i Love her. stan lutt

It’s the weekend before spring break and Hope Van Dyne would prefer to never leave Milton Academy again than to have to endure this painfully awkward phone call for a second longer.

“School’s going well?” Hank Pym asks from the other side of the country as he stifles a yawn. Hope checks her watch and subtracts the time difference, calculating he must only just be leaving his office even though it’s almost 9pm on the west coast. He’d never have left the office this late before her mother died.

“School’s fine.”

There is a pause, in which Hope is convinced her father is trying to remember any of her friends’ names but coming up empty handed, not that there are many in the first place. At one of the most exclusive boarding schools in the country your reputation precedes you, especially, as Hope has discovered, when all your classmates know about you is that your mother died before you even graduated elementary school , your father is rumoured to have been involved in her death and the day after her funeral you were shipped off to Massachusetts and are still here a decade later.

Hope’s popularity isn’t exactly helped by her sharp tongue and blunt words, either, but she has bigger things to think about than if she’ll win prom queen, like getting into MIT and taking over the world, starting with Pym Tech.

“How’s… Anya?”

“ _Ava’s_ fine, too.”

He should have known Ava’s name at least, considering his bitter ongoing feud with her adopted father, Bill Foster, but it’s been a long time since Hank paid attention to Hope’s life and he isn’t likely to start anytime soon.

Another pause, that drags on even longer than the last, straining Hope’s fragile patience when it comes to him to the breaking point.

“Look, I have things to do, so-”

“I was calling about spring break.”

She groans internally. How could she have forgotten about the dreaded annual Pym vacation to her grandmother’s beach house upstate? Two entire weeks of leaving the room every time her father enters it, hiding from her overbearing aunts and uncles who still look at her as if she’s the same seven year old who cried over her mother’s casket and making awkward small talk with her cousins.

“I assume you won’t be bringing anyone, of course?”

“I will be, actually,” She snaps, irked by the assumption that yet again she’ll be arriving alone and sensing an opportunity for the latest in a long line of attempts to piss her father off. “My boyfriend.” 

“That’s nice,” Hank says mildly.

She wants to scream.

Over winter break she dyed her hair electric blue with Ava’s help and received only a puzzled glance, as if her father knew something was different but couldn’t be sure what, and the summer before she threw a party while he was away on a business trip, not even bothering to clean up, and he never mentioned it. Once she drank half of his minibar in one night and he only raised his eyebrows.

Hope isn’t sure what she’s looking for from him exactly, beyond any form of a normal parental reaction, but she’s been searching for it for a long time and her attempts are getting a little drastic.

“Great. You’ll _love_ him.” 

_Who?_ The logical, rational side of Hope’s brain that goes into hibernation every time she talks to her father screams at herself. _Who is he going to love? You haven’t dated anyone for a year!_

“I’ll see you on Saturday,” He hangs up.

She is so fucked.

“You are so fucked,” Ava Starr tells her from the other side of their shared room, her voice muffled a little by barely stifled laughter. “I mean, if you wanted to piss him off, you could have just taken me and said I was your girlfriend, but you said you were bringing your _boyfriend_.”

“I know,” Hope groans, throwing herself onto her bed and staying there, sprawled out. “What the hell do I do now?” 

“Start making a list of potential fake boyfriends?” Ava has a glint in her eye that scares her. “Personally, I think you should go with Darren just to see if it gives your dad an aneurysm.”

Hope snorts.

“As funny as that would be, I don’t think I could make it two weeks having to pretend to be attracted to _him_. But it’s got to be someone who can actually get a reaction out of him and that I can convince to help me…”

 

Three days later, Hope has still had no epiphanies on who she’s going to convince to pretend to be her boyfriend for two weeks solely to annoy her father as much as possible and with the vacation days away she’s growing desperate.

She’s too busy frantically scanning the faces of everyone in her physics classroom to notice her teacher placing her latest test on her desk, but the commotion a few desks in front of her finally catches her attention. 

“This is such bullshit!” 

“Language, Lang.”

Hope glances over to see Scott Lang is staring at his test, dejected, as their teacher walks away, and is finally reminded of her own results lying on her desk. 100%, as usual. 

She looks back at Scott so quickly she’s surprised she doesn’t get whiplash, an idea finally forming for how to get out of this mess.

Scott Lang: doesn’t know how to keep his mouth shut, somehow maintains decent grades without ever seeming to do any work, started a much needed black market for alcohol at a boarding school and never got caught until now.

Scott Lang: currently a schoolwide legend at Milton Academy for breaking into the Dean's office with his friends and stealing a year’s supply of whiskey that was worth $5000 a bottle.

Scott Lang: only here on a scholarship, so while Luis, Dave and Kurt got daily detentions for the rest of the year and a stern letter home, Scott is being expelled at the end of the year if he doesn’t receive all As. 

Scott Lang: currently worryingly close to failing physics despite the insane amount of pressure hanging over him.

It’s perfect.

Hope’s out of her seat and sliding into the seat next to Scott’s before she even really registers what she’s doing. He jumps as he notices her and she tries her best not to laugh considering she needs him to _not_ hate her, and pretends not to see him furtively flipping his test over so she can’t see his predictably low score.

“Uh, do you want something?” He asks. 

“I have a proposition.”

“What do you mean you have a proposition?”

“If you don’t pass this class you’re getting kicked out,” She says and immediately regrets it as his cautious expression fades into disgruntlement.

“Thanks for the reminder.”

“I’m the only person in here even getting the grades you need to be allowed to stay.”

“Look, if you came over just to show off-”

“Oh my God, you’re not getting it. I’m offering to tutor you so you can pass finals after spring break.”

“You’re offering to help me?” He looks suspicious and should do, but Hope takes some offence nonetheless. “No offence, but you don’t really seem the helpful type.” 

“In exchange for something.”

That really doesn’t help the suspicion.

“What?”

Now for the horrifyingly embarrassing part.

“Uh, I told my dad I was bringing my boyfriend on vacation-”

“You don’t have a boyfriend.”

Hope blinks, wondering how he even knows that.

“Well, yeah. That’s where you come in.”

“Are you asking me to be your boyfriend, because don’t get me wrong you’re pretty and all, but we just talked for like the first time ever.”

She hates him. She actually hates him. If he agrees, she doesn’t know how she’ll get through a fortnight without killing him then herself.

“ _Fake_ boyfriend. I’m asking you to be my _fake_ boyfriend. There’s a difference.”

“Why would you tell your dad you have a boyfriend if you don’t?”

 Does he ever stop asking questions?

“It just slipped out and it seemed like a good opportunity to piss him off.”

“Why are you asking me?” 

“You literally never shut up, I can’t think of anyone who would annoy him more. And,” She adds hastily, realising how that sounded, “you never go home except at summer anyway and you need me just as much as I need you. It’s this or you probably don’t get to come back next year, and this way you get a free vacation.”

“I’ll do it.”

“I-” She didn’t expect him to actually say yes. “You will?”

“On one condition.” 

“What?” She asks warily.

“I know it’ll be hard for you but you have to promise not to fall in love with me, no matter what happens.” 

Hope grits her teeth and reminds herself he just agreed to pretend to be her boyfriend for a fortnight and come with her on possibly the awkwardest vacation of all time.

“I’m sure I’ll manage. Do we have a deal?”

“Deal,” He reaches over to shake her hand, which is kind of weird but she does it anyway. “God, I better pass physics after all this.”

“Trust me, you will.”


	2. Chapter 2

Detention, Scott Lang has discovered recently, is an excellent opportunity to assess his exceptionally poor life choices and has since concluded that whoever assigned him to a room with Luis for their junior year could have had no idea what chaos they were releasing into the halls of Milton Academy.

Luis has made a lot of dumb suggestions since they met, most of which Scott has managed to hold himself back from joining and successfully stopped Luis, Kurt and Dave from attempting, in the process earning himself the position of the mom friend, but  _ Ay, Scottie, let’s break into the Dean’s office and steal his whiskey! _ has to be the dumbest yet. Starting a black market from your dorm that most teachers graciously ignore to avoid the paperwork and the risk of pissing off Luis’ dad, who just happened to have funded the science wing refurbishment recently, is one thing. This was much, much worse.

However, at the time Scott wasn’t thinking about his precarious scholarship or the consequences of being caught, he was thinking about how much he could charge his Upper East Side born and bred classmates, and how much food his mom would be able to fill her fridge with.

Getting into the Dean’s office was almost laughably easy, requiring only some sleight of hand on Luis’ behalf when he was called in to discuss his father’s latest donation of some form to the school and Scott spending five minutes with the key, a lighter, scissors and an old credit card to create a copy, before Kurt distracted the Dean in the hallway while Dave slipped the key back into his pocket. 

They were in and out in minutes, not even pausing to rifle through the tantalizing stack of staff personnel files left open on the desk, though if Luis had had his way they would have spent the entire night doing just that.

No, the problem came when the fire alarm in the dormitories was set off at 1am and a search for the only students missing found them on the other side of the school with a bag bulging with bottles each.

Miraculously Scott wasn’t expelled on sight but instead given an ultimatum: all As by the end of the school year or he’d lose his scholarship and by extension his place at Milton Academy, because unlike Luis, Kurt and Dave’s parents, his didn’t earn 6 figure salaries. He didn’t complain about how everyone else had just been given detention for the rest of the year or gripe about the double standards, just stood there and took it, silently defiant and determined to prove their expectations of him wrong.

Although his grades were, at a glance, average for a Milton Academy student, he’d gotten high enough SAT scores to qualify for a scholarship in the first place, tended to thrive under pressure and once he started actually completing every assignment and studying for every test he knew he’d be able to save his grades and his place.

He wasn’t ready to go home for summer, couldn’t even face that cramped apartment with too many ghosts for a few weeks, let alone for good.

But in spite of Scott’s resolve physics was currently kicking his ass in ways he didn’t even know a subject could, and it was with paralyzing fear that Scott had realised while the rest of his other grades might be improving, he was still barely scraping a D. However, just as he’d resigned himself to having to return to San Francisco, Hope van Dyne (future valedictorian, current honors student and quite possibly an angel sent from heaven) approached him with the weirdest favour he’d ever been asked for in his life, but if it meant staying another year then he’d take it.

All of this he manages to relay to Luis through careful murmurs as the teacher stares at the clock, her eyes glazing over as she waits with them just as eagerly for detention duty to be over, although Scott’s attempts at subtlety are soon wasted Luis’ yelp in response.

“Hope van fucking Dyne?” 

Luis’ reaction earns them a swift shush from the bleary eyed teacher and draws Kurt and Dave’s curiosity as they inch closer to eavesdrop.  

“Sorry,” Luis apologises cheerily, then lowers his voice. “Hope van fucking Dyne? You’re going on a family vacation with Hope van fucking Dyne and pretending to be her boyfriend?”

“Can we please stop calling her Hope van fucking Dyne?” Scott asks. “It’s getting weird.”

“ _ That’s _ what’s weird? Not that you just agreed to go on vacation with Hope van f- with Hope van Dyne’s entire family and pretend you’re going out with her?”

“I didn’t just randomly agree,” He defends himself. “She said she’d help me pass physics and I believe her. She’s never gotten lower than an A, like, ever. I wouldn’t even be in this situation if it wasn’t for you.

“Look, you know I’m really sorr-”

“Yeah, I know you are and I don’t blame you,” Scott sighs. “I’m the one that was stupid enough to go along with it.”

“It’s just the fact that it’s Hope van fucking Dyne!” Luis exclaims and the teacher glances up again.

If natural selection doesn’t kill Luis soon Scott might have to do it himself.

“Is this just because of that time you signed up for a martial arts class and she gave you a black eye? Because that was months ago, I think it might be time for you to move on.”

“You pinky swore you’d never mention that day again! But no, it’s not because of that. There are some serious rumours about her. She doesn’t just scare me because I know she could kick my ass if she wanted to.”

“Last week someone asked me if it was true I’m getting kicked out because we got caught having sex on the Dean’s desk,” Scott says patiently. “Rumours don’t mean anything.”

“Hey, you’d be  _ lucky  _ to have sex with me on the Dean’s desk. But the rumours about Hope aren’t just stupid shit like that. You’re new so you wouldn’t know but her mom died when she was like seven and she got sent off here straight after and hates her dad, like  _ really  _ hates him. I heard from Sam Wilson who heard from Steve Rogers who heard from Tony Stark who heard from his dad who heard from his friend in S.H.I.E.L.D that her dad doesn't talk about how her mom died, ever.”

“Well, that explains why she wants to piss off her dad so much,” Scott points out. “But not why you’re scared of her. We don’t get to choose our parents, just what we do about them.”

And God, doesn’t he know it, but he doesn’t let his mind wander there.

At that Luis reluctantly lets it go, but Scott can’t. Luis’ words play over and over again in his head, even as he approaches Hope’s room that night. When she’d said they’d be studying he had expected equations and energy and electricity, not middle names and favourite movies and siblings, but here they are anyway.

Scott quickly discovers Hope was born Hope Pym but changed her name in ninth grade, is an only child hence the slight fear of any child under 12, was born in San Francisco and has a love-hate relationship with it, religiously re-watches all of the Star Wars movies once a month, wants to go to M.I.T. and work up the ranks of her father’s company and that her favourite colour is yellow. There are flashcards and he has to pretend to not to be impressed by her sheer dedication.

Scott does not have flashcards at the ready, or even a coherent list of answers to Hope’s increasingly obscure questions, and the sight of her noting down everything he says makes him stumble over his words, the most embarrassing instance being when he gives her birthday instead of his.

“Tell me about your parents,” Hope says eventually, and for the first time Scott hesitates.

“Uh… My mom works at Baskin Robbins and my dad… Doesn’t really do anything, I guess.”

“Siblings?”

“Just one. Cassie. She turned eight last week.”

Hope looks up from her notes at this, studying Scott intently. He didn’t come across quite as easy going as he hoped, then, so he averts his gaze quickly, hoping she’ll take the hint.

“Um,” Hope glances back at her notes. “That’s it. All there is left now is what we tell people when they ask about us.”

A story slowly forms, picture perfect snapshots of some other Scott meeting some other Hope in the first physics class of the year, them relentlessly flirting with each other but never acknowledging it until they were assigned a class project the first week after winter break. Their first kiss was under mistletoe that hadn’t been taken down even though Christmas had come and gone and their first official date was ice skating on Valentine’s Day.

“It’s not realistic,” Scott argues. “All the mistletoe and Valentine’s Day dates and winter wonderland. Life isn’t like that.”

“It doesn’t need to be realistic,” Hope counters. “It isn’t real. It just needs to be believable, and something simple we can tell over and over without forgetting any details will be.”

“Guys,” Ava Starr interrupts from the other side of the room, making Scott jump. He hadn’t even noticed her come in. “It’s a vacation not an interrogation. You’ll be fine, you’ve done more than enough of… Whatever  _ this  _ is.”

Hope opens her mouth, probably to argue that they can never be prepared enough, but a pleading glance from Scott is enough for her to admit defeat.

“Fine,” She gives in. “It’s getting late, anyway. You remember what I said about tomorrow?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m getting a lift to Boston Logan Airport tomorrow with Luis, meeting you at Gate 28 for the 10:30 flight to Cape Cod and then we’re driving to your grandma’s beach house. Got it.”

“Goodnight, Scott,” Hope bites her lip. “And, uh, thanks for all of this. I know it’s a lot to ask,”

“It’s fine,” Scott dismisses. “Free vacation, a free physics tutor and once in a lifetime opportunity to dedicate all my efforts to pissing someone off and actually get something in return? Maybe I should be thanking you. Goodnight,  _ sweetheart _ .”

Hope doesn’t miss a beat.

“Sleep well,  _ honey _ .”

“Don’t let the bed bugs bite,  _ babe _ .”

“See you in the morning,  _ darling _ .”

“I’m going to throw up,” Ava announces. “You’re both doing great!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the fake dating actually begins next chapter... who's excited because i AM


	3. Chapter 3

Boston Logan International airport is bustling with rowdy families and sharply dressed businessmen and other Milton Academy students that avert their eyes when they see her and Hope feels like she might have a heart attack.

Scott is late.

Or, at least, Hope is praying he’s late, not wanting to even think about the possibility of him not coming until she has to. She doesn’t think she can face telling her entire extended family that her non-existent boyfriend couldn’t make it after all, doesn’t want to have to brace herself for her cousins’ sniggers and her aunts’ knowing glances and, worse, her father’s nonchalant shrug and attempts to act like he cares.

But why _wouldn’t_ Scott change his mind? His roommate probably told him all about her dead mother and absent father and that time she’d punched him in the face at a martial arts class and convinced him to stay far, far away from the Pyms and van Dynes before he got entangled in her fucked up family, too.

Or maybe he just decided that pretending to be some random girl from his physics class’ boyfriend for two weeks was too much hassle just to get an A when he could just ask someone else to tutor him instead. Not that anyone other than her was actually getting an A, but still. There are a million reasons for him not to come and they’re all playing over and over in her head.

“Hope!”

Scott is running through the airport, narrowly avoiding hitting everyone he rushes past with the unwieldy suitcase he’s dragging behind him, and she’s never felt more grateful to see anybody in her life. She blinks and he’s stood in front of her, gasping for breath and gasping out apologies.

“Luis got pulled over for speeding - let’s face it, _that_ was bound to happen eventually - and even though his dad paid God knows how much money for that car it broke down because he’d forgotten to check the gas, and I had to hitchhike the rest of the way here, and kind of thought I was going to get murdered at one point, but-”

“You came,” Hope says, and in another universe she might have hugged him.

“Of course I came,” He says. “Why wouldn’t I?”

They look at each other, a lull in conversation as Scott catches his breath and the world moves around them. She’s never noticed that he has green eyes before. Not that she’s ever looked before. Not that it matters.

She opens her mouth to say something, she’s not even sure what, but before either of them can find out she’s cut off by a crackling originating from a speaker directly over their heads that makes them both jump.

“Hope van Dyne and Scott Lang, please make your way to Gate 28 for the 10:30 flight to Cape Cod. I repeat, Hope van Dyne and Scott Lang, please make your way to Gate 28 for the 10:30 flight to Cape Cod.”

It’s only then that Hope and Scott finally notice the flight attendants glaring at them from the gate and, each slightly horrified, make their way over to board.

The plane ride isn’t even an hour but it feels like an eternity longer, mostly thanks to Scott’s relentless fidgeting from the seat next to her as she tries to do her biology homework. Hope has to restrain herself from saying anything when he gets up for the third time because, really, he can’t be going to the bathroom _again_.

She’s never clapped when the plane lands in her life, but when this one does she’s tempted.

Scott is uncharacteristically quiet as they navigate their way to the rental car garage, the gravity of what he’s agreed to finally hitting him, Hope guesses. She can feel the tension in the air, too. One family dinner or uncle’s birthday party would have been one thing, but a two week family vacation is something else entirely. It’s so much easier to get caught and has so much more potential to be the most embarrassing experience of Hope’s life.

Turning up with no boyfriend would have been humiliating enough, but the thought of turning up with a boyfriend who quickly gets discovered to be fake is enough to make Hope feel sick. She decides to focus on the positives, like imagining her father’s reaction when she tells him Scott is a misdemeanor away from getting expelled.

“I’m driving,” Scott speaks for the first time, as they stare at the gleaming SUV, holding his hand out for the keys that Hope only clutches tighter.

“Uh, _I’m_ driving,” She argues, incredulous.

“I’m the one doing you a favour,” He remind her. “I get to drive.”

“You got pulled over this morning,” She grits her teeth. “And I’m the one that paid for the car.”

“Your dad paid for the car, that’s not the same! And I wasn’t the one driving, I have nothing but respect for the rules of the road.”

Hope drives.

Scott sulks for half an hour but cheers up when she lets him choose the music, which she instantly regrets. Nobody should ever be forced to endure Come On Get Happy at such a high volume ever again, as far as she’s concerned.

They spend most of the journey quizzing each other until Hope’s satisfied they might actually be able to pull this off. She feels a bit unstoppable. Getting into MIT will be a breeze after this, she decides.

“It’s so perfect here,” Scott says wistfully, gazing out of the window at the clean-cut houses and white beaches.  
  
“Only on the surface,” She glances at him. “Picture perfect isn’t the same. It wears off after a while. It starts to feel more like a movie set and less like real life.”

“Is that the worst thing?” He asks. “To escape from real life for a while?”

Hope glances at him again and for the hundredth time finds herself wondering who Scott Lang is when he’s not at Milton Academy or on the world’s awkwardest vacation. Not that he’s ever not at Milton Academy. This is the first time he’s left since he started in September, she realises.

When she drags her eyes back to the road, she finds she’s about to miss their turn off and turns sharply, choosing to ignore the driver behind her when he flips her off for it.

From there it’s a short drive to her grandmother’s beach house, but Hope is increasingly self-conscious of of how the houses they pass are progressing in both size and price. If Scott notices, he doesn’t comment, and neither does Hope.

By the time Hope pulls into her grandmother’s driveway, though, Scott is blinking at his surroundings looking equally impressed and intimidated.

“It’s so big,” He says. “And… Wait, is that a fucking rooftop swimming pool?”

Hope cranes forward to glance at the roof and, sure enough, finds a glimmer of blue just visible from their spot on the drive.

“Okay, that one surprised me, too,” She admits. “That wasn’t there last time.”

“Best vacation ever,” Scott declares. “When do I get to start devoting all of my energy to annoying your dad just to make it even better?”

“Not until tomorrow, thank God he always comes a day late because of flight times,” She bites her lip. “Look… Thank you. Again. For all of this.”

“Anytime,” He shrugs it off. “Let’s get this party started, shall we?”

They stride up the driveway a respectable distance apart that slowly becomes less respectable the closer they get to the beach house, and as Hope opens the front door she remembers to grab Scott’s hand and drag him after her.

He raises an eyebrow and she rolls her eyes.

“Don’t,” She hisses, but before Scott can respond what feels like Hope’s entire family has appeared, somehow crowding the colossal hallway.

Her Aunt Peggy pounces first and Hope is grateful for the universe’s small mercies of at least getting questioned by her favourite aunt first. Peggy Carter and her father might not get along, but Hope and Peggy certainly make up for that, united in Hope’s opinion by a shared lack of tolerance for bullshit and silent determination to never let a man get the best of them.

She fends off all of the usual questions about how school is, taking care not to be entirely honest, remembering all too well the rows of the past she’d listened to from behind closed doors as Peggy berated her father for sending her off to boarding school.

“You must be the boyfriend,” Her aunt says, a glint in her eye as she finally turns to Scott. “And the first one to make it to spring break vacation, as well. There are high expectations now, you know.”

“Scott Lang, Ma’am,” Scott introduces himself, to his credit looking only slightly terrified. “I’ll, uh, try my best to surpass them.”

A ghost of a smirk passes Peggy’s lips but she stays silent, and instead leans in to hug Hope before letting another of her father’s adopted siblings have their turn interrogating her.

Hope doesn’t have many memories of hugging her mother but she figures this is the closest she’s ever going to get again, and softens into her aunt’s embrace.

Next up is Howard Stark, the eldest of her father’s siblings and the one that reminds Hope the most of Hank, though she isn’t entirely sure her uncle has quite as valid an excuse for his careful emotional distance to his own child as her father. After barraging Hope with series of questions on school and how her father’s work is going, he offers Scott only a somewhat dismissive once over and an obligatory firm handshake before fading into the background to murmer to his wife, Maria.

Her other uncle, James Barnes, or as he is usually known, Bucky, only winks from across the room as he tries his best to escape whatever conversation Howard has since tried to start with him.

She blinks and her grandmother has appeared in Howard’s place, striking with a rigid hug that leaves Hope’s ribs aching.

“It’s so good to see you,” She sighs. “I do worry about you and Tony at Milton, though at least Tony’s a bit closer to home… And who’s this handsome young man?”

Scott shuffles forward to meet her grandmother’s piercing gaze.

“This is Scott,” Hope says. “My… Boyfriend.”

_Boyfriend_. The word feels thick on her tongue, alien, unnatural. She’s never really had to apply it before and isn’t used to it, usually preferring quick hook-ups she can forget ever happened and then blame on the moment or the alcohol.

“And when did this happen?”

They rattle off their well rehearsed narrative, even remembering to include the kiss under the mistletoe and the Valentine’s Day date, and Hope finds they’ve spent so much time perfecting it that they can finish each other’s sentences.

Her grandmother only watches, with a similar glint in her eye to Peggy’s that makes Hope’s skin itch. She doesn’t want to be _too_ convincing, the more believable they are as a couple the more questions Hope will have to face when they inevitably ‘break up’.

“Well, I hope you enjoy your time here,” She says warmly, pulling Scott in for a hug that surprises Hope even more than it surprises Scott.

Hope lets out a sigh of relief as her grandmother backs away, distracted by one of her grandchildren’s yell in the distance, and realises they’ve survived the first meetings, with the adults, at least.

“That was kind of easy,” Scott says.

“Oh, that was just the beginning,” She assures him. “They like to slowly scale the intensity off without scaring you off at first. Just you wait.”

“Just you wait for what?” Tony Stark asks, approaching with the rest of Hope’s cousins following his lead.

“Me to show him the swimming pool,” Hope lies, though Tony is too busy sizing up Scott to really be listening. “Not that I’ve even seen it yet, either.”

“You’re the boyfriend? Aren’t you the guy that got kicked out of Milton?”

Hope had been relying entirely on her and Tony’s different grades and social circles at Milton Academy, or rather her lack of a social circle, to be sufficient enough to stop Tony having any real idea who Scott was or why he hadn’t heard about his and Hope’s relationship, but cold dread hits her as she realises she forgot to factor in Scott’s current infamousy.

“Nope,” Scott says cheerily. “Still here until the end of the year.”

“Why did you get, uh, _almost_ kicked out?” Peter, Bucky’s adopted son - he wanted to continue the family tradition - joins the conversation while his also adopted sister, Nat, moves closer to hear Scott’s answer.

“He stole whiskey from the Dean,” Tony answers before Scott can. “Him and, uh, Larry, Kieran and Darren?”

“Luis, Kurt and Dave,” Scott corrects.

“Where’s Pepper?” Hope asks, before the conversation can reach dangerous territory. “She usually comes on these, doesn’t she?”

“Got a better offer,” Tony frowns. “Cruise in the Caribbean with her parents.”

“Really, anywhere but here with you would probably have been a better offer,” Sharon Carter, the last of Hope’s cousins, says and the pair start their usual bickering that the rest of the cousins have become accustomed to.

“Next door are already here,” Nat tells Hope, gesturing to the left to indicate the beach house adjoining their own. “They said to tell you to come over when you get here, they want to meet Scott.”

Scott and Hope shoot each other panicked glances. Neither of them had anticipated news spreading this fast or anyone outside of Hope’s family ever hearing about their relationship.

“Why do your neighbours want to meet me?” Scott asks as they make their way through the elaborate and perfectly pruned garden to where the beach begins.

“I don’t know,” Hope frowns. “We hang out sometimes, since we’re always here at the same time, but they mostly keep to themselves. They don’t talk to any of my cousins, I don’t know how they even found out, and I guess we don’t need to convince them we’re dating.”

“Well, how co–” He catches sight of the neighbouring property as Hope leads him onto the beach and to the left. “Holy shit. That’s not a beach house, that’s a mansion. Who are your neighbours again?”

“Their dad’s practically royalty in some European country,” Hope says. “Actually, he might be _actual_ royalty, I’m not really sure. He’s only Thor and Loki’s dad, though, and they just always invite Valkyrie and Bruce whenever they go on vacation.”

“Hold on,” Scott stops walking abruptly, and Hope has to take hold of his hand and drag him along again. “Did you just say your neighbours are _royalty_?”

Before Hope can answer their conversation is interrupted by the sudden experience of the neighbours in question from where they’d been lounging, unseen, in their own lavish garden.

Thor, always the most affectionate of the ragtag group, greets Hope with a bone crushing hug that leaves her gasping for air. The more reserved Bruce and Valkyrie offer friendly smiles while Thor’s brother, Loki, only stares curiously at Scott.

“Uh, hi,” Scott says, as the rest of the group’s eyes turn to him. “I’m Scott. Hope’s, uh…”

“Boyfriend,” Hope interrupts before he can say anything else. “He’s my boyfriend.”

Scott shoots Hope a questioning look but she’s too busy staring at Loki, who she wouldn’t trust with her life let alone keep a secret from her family just for her benefit. He seems to buy it though, or maybe he just didn’t care much in the first place, she can never really tell with him.

Valkyrie introduces herself to Scott first, purely, Hope suspects, so she can shake his hand and watch his grimace as she grips just a little too hard.

As she pulls away, she reaches for a discarded vodka bottle left on the grass and takes a swig. Thor and Bruce exchange pointed glances.

“It’s 2pm,” Bruce says.

“And?”

“Don’t you think you should wait a bit before you start drinking?”

“This is Bruce,” Valkyrie tells Scott. “He hates my happiness.”

“And mine,” Loki chimes in, taking the bottle from her for his own sip. “I’m Loki, by the way. But my friends usually just call me Prince of Asgard.”

“Nobody calls you that,” Valkyrie complains. “And you’re not even a prince, you’re the king’s third cousin or something.”

“Close enough,” He shrugs, and brings the bottle to his mouth for another mouthful only for Thor to snatch it, screwing the lid back on and handing it to Bruce, who stashes it in his backpack before either of their friends can attempt to get it back.

“I’m Thor. Sorry for my friends,” He apologises. “They’re not usually like this.”

“Yes, they are,” Bruce says.

“...Yeah, they are,” Thor admits. “They usually start drinking later in the day, though.”

“No, we don’t,” Valkyrie says.

“Well, maybe you should start.”

“We should probably go,” Hope interjects before the bickering can really start. “I think there’s some family dinner thing we’re supposed to be getting ready for.”

“See you. Don’t be a stranger, we want to know more about _him_ ,” Thor nods towards Scott.

“Come to the party next week,” Bruce says. “I think it’s at Shuri’s, so Peter will be there, too.”

“Sharon, Tony and Nat are probably going too, then,” Hope says. “Uh, sure, just text me when you find out when it is.”

“Wait,” Scott looks like he might faint. “Shuri as in the _Wakandan_ _princess_?”

“She also designs all of Wakanda’s technology,” Loki says. “And made Time’s 100 last year. Not to mention she throws a really good party.”

“How many different royal families do you know?” Scott asks.

Hope has to think for a second.

“No, that’s it,” She says. “Just two.”

“ _Just_ two?”

“Are we going or not?”

“Yeah, as long as you don’t tell me you just happen to know Nicky Fury, too, on the way.”

“Actually-“

“Oh my God.”

As the Odinson’s beach house retreats in the distance behind them, Scott nudges her.

“You know, we’re actually pulling this off?”

“My dad hasn’t even gotten here yet,” Hope warns, but Scott only shrugs. “He can be a bit… Intense.”

“We’re still pulling this off.”

“I know,” She lets herself smile. “One day down, thirteen to go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> listen we’re not questioning this entire family tree that honestly scares me we’re just going with it


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i can only apologise for how LONG it's been since my last update omg i'm so sorry !!! i promise i'm going to try my absolute best to never leave that long between chapters again :( but on a more positive note i hope you enjoy this chapter <3
> 
> anyway uh.. i recently wrote a scotthope post cw angst fic called death by a thousand cuts so maybe check that out if you're ever in the mood for some angst :o

Scott has been washed and dressed for an hour and if he has to stare around the guest room he got allocated for one minute he thinks he might spontaneously combust from the combined boredom and hunger. When his phone chimes, he can only thank God that it’s Hope’s name that appears.

 

_ where are you _

 

**in my room??**

 

_ uh breakfast started twenty minutes ago _

 

**i didn’t know i was supposed to just walk in alone**

 

**also i don’t know where the dining room is**

 

_...do you want me to come get you? _

 

**yes pls**

 

Minutes later, Hope finally knocks on his door and he doesn’t think he’s ever been so relieved to see someone in his life.

 

“Do I have to escort you to breakfast every day?” She asks as they make their way through a series of doors and hallways. “Or will you be able to get there by yourself from now on?”

 

“This place is big, okay,” He defends himself. “I didn’t want to get lost. Last night, I took a wrong turn and walked into a full on laboratory.” 

 

“That’s my dad’s,” She rolls her eyes. “He  _ really  _ doesn’t know how to leave his work at work and had it put in.”

 

“Who has a  _ laboratory  _ installed at their vacation home?”

 

“Yeah, well, that’s my dad for you.”

 

Hope walks into the dining room first but freezes almost imperceptibly at the sight of something Scott can’t see until he follows her in.

 

Hank Pym looks just as grave and somber in person as he did in the company photos a Google search had found the night before. Apparently, not even the sight of his daughter who he can’t have seen for months isn’t enough to bring out a smile. Scott imagines a childhood haunted by that frown at every turn and thinks he might understand a little of Hope’s anger.

 

The father and daughter barely even greet each other, with Hank offering only a curt nod that Hope ignores while the rest of their family, gathered around the long table laden with food, remain oblivious. Just as Scott longingly glances at the pile of pancakes nearest to him, Hank turns his attention to him.

 

“This is the boyfriend?” He asks, eyes flicking to Scott for the first time. “Scooter, is it?”

 

Hope nudges him forward and he reluctantly tears his eyes away from the table to Hank.

 

“It’s Scott, actually,” He says cheerfully but Hank doesn’t respond.

 

“Scooter just got expelled from Milton,” Tony helpfully jumps into the conversation, evidently a fan of Scott’s new nickname.

 

“ _ Almost _ expelled,” Peter corrects from opposite Tony. “For stealing.”

 

“From the Dean,” Sharon adds. “Can’t forget that it was from the Dean.”

 

Hope’s cousins really don’t hold back, apparently.

 

“Is this true?”

 

Scott tries his best not to shrink under Hank’s scrutiny and reminds himself of how badly he needs that A in physics and how badly Hope seems to want to get under her father’s skin.

 

“It was whiskey that I stole actually,” He boasts as the room falls silent. “And it was $5000 a bottle. So, y’know, I’m a thief with expensive taste.”

 

On the far end of the table Hope’s grandmother drops her glass of orange juice and Peggy and Bucky rush to help mop up the stain. Howard, meanwhile, drops his napkin on his plate and vacates his seat to loudly whisper something to Hank about hiding the valuables but receives no response as the eldest of the brothers simply stares at Scott, sizing him up.

 

“Really, I’m a businessman,” Scott adds before giving in and taking a bite of a piece of toast from the table.

 

Hank doesn’t take the bait so Howard does, instead.

 

“A  _ businessman _ ?” He sneers.

“It was for my black market. The first one to last this long at Milton Academy to last this long without getting caught.”

 

Hank is still giving him the same measured gaze and Scott’s starting to feel a little desperate for how to elicit a reaction.

 

“Is there anything else you’d like to share, Scooter?”

 

He really wishes Hope had given him some guidelines on exactly how far he was supposed to be going in the attempt to annoy her father but figures now’s a better time than ever to test the boundaries.

 

“Would now be a bad time to bring up the baby?”

 

To his side Hope chokes on her water, setting into motion a coughing fit that Scott attempts alleviate by hitting her on the back but only serves to make it worse. Around the room, other reactions vary from wide-eyed stares (Peter and Sharon) to muffled snickering  (Tony, Nat and, surprisingly, Bucky) to heads in hands (Hope’s grandmother) to completely freezing (Peggy and Howard). Hank, meanwhile, looks physically ill and has to take a seat

 

Okay, maybe there was a limit and he just went past it.

 

“That was a joke,” Hope gasps out, still recovering from her coughing fit. “He was joking! I’m not- not pregnant.”

 

“You’re not  _ not  _ pregnant?” Peggy asks, horrified.

 

“So you are pregnant?” Howard speaks up.

 

“I am  _ not pregnant _ ,” She confirms.

 

“Family meeting,” Hank declares, colour gradually returning to his face. “Now!”

 

“Aww, Hank, I’m honoured you see me as part of the family.”

 

Hearing Hope’s quickly stifled laugh to his side is worth the death glare he receives from her father.

 

“Everyone under 18 out!”

 

One by one all of the cousins and Scott grudgingly file out of the room, with Scott and Hope trailing out last. Hope checks that the door has been completely shut behind them and that her cousins are nowhere in sight before spinning around.

 

“Sorry about the pregnant part,” Scott says hurriedly before she can speak. 

 

“Are you kidding? That was the best part! It definitely made it into my top ten horrifying moments in my life but slightly worth it for how he looked like he was going to keel over on the spot.”

 

“So you’re not mad?”

 

She breaks into a smile then. And Hope’s usually so guarded, so reserved, that when she smiles it’s as if she’s opened the blinds and is letting the sunlight in, or rather out, and it’s dizzying. Scott thinks of Helen of Troy, of men going to war for just one woman, and wonders how many wars he’d win for just one smile.

 

In the same breath he notices how close they are, not more than half a foot between them, but before he can let his mind flicker to what it would look like they’re about to do to anyone that saw them, let alone let himself wonder what that would be like, he takes a hasty step backwards and stumbles into the door.

 

“I think I should have done this a long time ago,” She says.

 

Scott eventually figures that the adults must have reluctantly let him stay since none of them ever attempt  _ that  _ awkward conversation with him, and strongly suspects Peggy’s influence when she winks at him later that day, but at the sight of him Hank has a tendency to walk in the opposite direction and seems content ignoring Scott’s existence.

 

They’re getting good at pretending, Scott realises over the next few days. Hope laughs at even his worst jokes and Scott laces his hand in hers in the hallways and throughout it all he is determined to not feel a thing.

 

Communicating this to Luis after one of his daily phone calls demanding updates doesn’t go well, however.

 

“Scottie, no,” Luis says, sounding more concerned than he did when Scott told him he was probably getting expelled. “You’re catching feelings, aren’t you?”

 

“I’m not catching feelings!” Scott argues. “It’s just that her hair smells nice. And when she smiled at me I forget about how shit my life is. And there’s this one freckle I think about a lot… But I’m not catching feelings!”

 

“Bro…” 

 

“Fuck.” 


End file.
